Blackbird
by Phantomagorical
Summary: When someone dies, a terrible sadness is carried with it. Sometimes however, the sadness is so great that the soul can not rest, and is given the chance to destroy this sadness, to right the wrong.
1. Chapter 1

Rain delicately fell from the dark greying clouds, softly mimicking the tears that fell from the ducts of the eyes of mourning family and friends. Thunder rumbled through the cemetery as the coffins were slowly and ceremoniously lowered into the ground. Seven white marble coffins, each of which held an individual victim of a brutal crime. No one spoke, but there were no need for words. It was obvious what each person was thinking: Why? These innocent young teenagers did no wrong. The only thing that a couple of them where guilty of was handing in homework late. No eye contact was necessary. Nor was it wanted.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the ceremony is now over."

The vicar of the local church couldn't hide his sorrow, no matter how much he tried. He looked down into each of the pits in which lay one coffin. Looking into these pits was like looking into the depths of despair, into the melancholia that surrounded them. Slowly, Soil was tipped into each of the pits, slowly concealing the coffins until they were completely masked by at least 4 feet of moist, fresh soil. Slowly, the reception left, in small groups, murmuring their goodbyes. Finally the only people left were the parents of one of the deceased. The mother had deep red hair that flowed down to her elbows, covering half of her face as she wept quietly. She was holding hands with her husband and father of their dead child. He had a sharp yet kind face, with deep brown eyes and strong cheek bones. Tears carved paths on his face as he looked at the gravestone of his daughter.

"Anything you want to say, Amber?" He croaked, still transfixed to the words that were chiselled into the stone.

"Goodbye, my darling daughter. May you sleep peacefully for all eternity." She trembled, then broke down into a fresh wave of tears.

"I think it's time to head home…" He said, wrapping an arm around the shaking shoulders of his wife, and walked her away from the grave without looking back, until when they reached the cemetery exit. He turned around and said softly to the sky,

"Goodbye, my little Blackbird. Rest in peace."

But she wasn't going to rest in peace. She couldn't. Not yet anyway. She hadn't finished living. She wasn't ready to die. None of them were. The sadness was too great.

A crow landed softly on the branch of a weeping willow that covered the graves. It cawed twice, before taking off and landing on the gravestone of the nearest victim, who happened to be the daughter of the parents that had just left. It looked down at the name that stood out so boldly amongst the rest:

_"__Rest In Peace_

_Lita Jackdaw-_

_"This world never stops", you said  
This wonder never leaves  
The time will never come to say, "Goodbye"  
"This tide never turns", you said  
This night never falls again  
These flowers will never die"__  
_


	2. Chapter 2

Andrew Copeland was a 27 year old man, but the experiences that he has already has as a police officer would mistake him as a much older man. He was in his small kitchen of his suburban house, making a strong coffee- four sugars and milky. As he stirred the liquid in the travelling mug, he was reading through the fax he had received last night from the station about a mass killing that occurred four days ago at a local high school. 7 were dead, all but one shot once in either the chest or the head.

He rain his fingers through his shoulder-length dirty blonde hair and frowned slightly as he read the details of the seventh victim.

_Lita Jackdaw, 16_

_Cause of death: 6 bullets to various parts of her torso, and a 2 inch knife wound to her left bicep._

_Additional Notes: From various eye-witness accounts, it appears that she took the last bullets in order to save the 10 remaining students in her class. When the murderers realised that they had no more bullets, they escaped through the fire exit to the left of the studio._

Andrew sighed deeply. It wasn't the number of bullets she took that shocked him, but the fact that she chose to take them in order to ensure the safety of the other students. _What a brave girl_, he thought.

Just as he thought that, he heard a loud cawing sound. He looked around puzzled, and then noticed that the noise was from his garden. He looked out of the kitchen window to find a crow perched on the roof of the shed. Andrew relaxed. Just a bird.

He then heard a crunch of stones as a police car pulled into his driveway. He grabbed his phone, coffee and wallet, and then went to open his front door. A man in his mid-40's was getting out of the car, and he was wearing the same uniform as Andrew.

"'Morning Copeland," He said with a cheerful smile. "You all ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." He replied, and opened the passenger door to get in.

"Looks like it's going to tip it down again, eh?" The man chuckled.

"I guess so, Jake." Andrew muttered. He didn't understand why Jake Matthews was in such a happy mood. Maybe he didn't know what was going on.

"So you know where we are going?" Yep, he had no clue about the case.

"Didn't Olly inform you this morning?"

Oliver Green was the youngest officer on the force at 21, and he was the force's messenger. You needed something passed on, you go to him.

"On what? All he told me was they wanted me to pick you up and take you to this Stowupland High School's drama studio."

"He didn't say why?" Andrew asked. It was unusual for Olly to not tell someone why they needed to be somewhere.

"Nah, he said that you would probably inform me better than he ever will."

Andrew nodded, then silence fell in the car as water started to trickle down the windscreen. He had never been nervous before a case, and he had certainly never dreaded going to a crime scene before. He'd been to a wide range of scenes, from overdoses to hangings, from abuse to murder. He had never, however, attended the sight of a mass school shooting before. He had heard of many, but in a way he was thankful he didn't have to deal with them.

"So, what's been troubling you buddy?"

He looked around startled, only to find it was Jake.

"Oh," He said, gathering himself together. "Just this case."

"What is with this case that everyone gets freaked out about? I mean, what's happened?"

Andrew looked at Jake, debating whether to tell him, and with a great deal of reluctance and courage, he told Jake every detail that he had received about the case on the fax this morning. He watched his face slowly turn whiter than marble, and his eyes were widened with shock. When he had finished telling him, they had pulled into the car park of the school. Jake was completely silent when he got out the car and remained so as they walked over to a younger officer who was waiting outside of the same fire exit doors that the criminals had escaped through.

"Hey Andrew, Jake." He said, not making eye contact with them, but looking down at the ground. Andrew could tell that Olly, the young officer was waiting for them before he entered, out of fear at what he would see on his own. Andrew nodded, but Jake dismissed this greeting and walked over to the hedge just opposite the car park. Olly looked slightly confused, but with one look at Andrew's expression, he understood immediately.

"Never seen him this quiet. He's normally singing songs. Or shouting them out of tune." Olly said sadly, looking at Jake with pity.

"Poor guy." Andrew agreed. Both of them looked at the fire exit doors.

"Are you ready?" Andrew asked Olly, his hands trembling on the handle. Olly simply nodded, and gestured at Jake to come over, which he did with heavy reluctance.

"Ok, let's go." He said, and he pushed the handle down, then pushed the doors open.

The crow watched them enter from an old oak tree on the field as the rain started to hammer down on the ground.


End file.
